Fresh Toxin
by Ombree
Summary: There's a toxin in the room. It lingers sweet, and fresh all around this room. Collection of work based upon Freshtoxin's artwork on tumblr.
1. Far Deeper Than That

x.x.x.x

Title: Far Deeper Than That  
Prompt: _If I am really a part of your dream, you'll come back one day._  
Idea: Based on Artwork by freshtoxinn on Tumblr  
Note: While I was out of town I saw you post that you were upset. No, lets be honest you were depressed. I didn't have the chance to give you words when you needed it most but it definitely didn't mean I'd forget. You're doing something astounding and going through the trials of medschool. It's no joke and you're doing your best. I don't know you very well but the work you create, and that's okay because it doesn't lessen the fact that I'll do whatever it takes to try and push you through that depression.

I'm going to write one small work for every SasuSaku work you've made. So come back to these when you look in the mirror and you're looking rough on those days. These are entirely for you and only you. Remember you're the one inspiring others, and that makes you the one that's special-not your friends. If you tear yourself down I'll do what I can to help pick you back up.

Lift that head princess cause your crowns falling _and that's the last thing you deserve_. Keep fighting and keep pushing forward. You'll get there. I promise.

* * *

Fingers that press against her forehead had been but the start.

They've transpired passed the bonds of teammates, and progressed passed the days of plausible friendship. There's no denying where she sits within his realm. The pedestal is high, and holds an importance far different those who came before her. This throne she sits upon is not the same as the one he has made for the best friend of blonde. This seat of sovereignty she sits upon is not the same as the one the surrogate father of lead colored hair resided within. The cathedra she sits upon holds a different intention, and a different meaning. It is an unspoken title but one that adorns and caresses her.

It's the little things he has done to make sure there is no doubt within the air of any who look upon her. Those fingers that had pressed against her forehead before he left their side to gaze upon the world within his new found clarity had been but the start. He had kept her from allowing herself to be dragged within the world where his demons played. She held no part of his sins. She had held a far greater intent, and a far greater purpose—he had not know what meaning she would hold within this new found path. He would travel until he knew. He would travel it until the last of his demons where vanquished unable to seize her.

He is gone from her for a year. The leaves had gone from their greens of summer to the golden yellows, and vibrant reds of fall. They fell from the trees in fear of the cold, and they blossomed upon branches in pinks, and whites within the spring. The longing is always present but the mentality is the same. She's done this dance far longer than most. She's taken one step at a time upon this road. The destination remains the same. Happiness is all she has ever sought for him—even if she is not the one he finds it with. She's a precious teammate and that much is sure. She does not read into the fingers that pressed against her forehead—and maybe if she had she would have realized it was _far deeper than that_.

Her dream had been to have team seven whole again. Her dream had been for them to all laugh with each other as they had as children. Team Seven had been whole, and now her dream was complete. He wanders outside her grasp, and that is more than okay. He's seeing a world through eyes no longer fogged by hate. As long as they are together—as long as they a teammates—she would ask for nothing more.

He's come back to them, and she's there to greet them with the rest. They are all the smiles she's dreamed of and held close within his absence. The leaves are but blossoms in this time and there's a glow of the world around them within his presence. It's pure and it's different—he's truly seen with clear eyes. It's upon his face, within the length of obsidian, and the dust that has long since settled over his cloak of tan. Those fingers hidden within his cloak had been but the start, and it's now those eyes that run upon her that follow it's place. They've always held shared looks. They've always gazed without question.

It's a nod of her head and the lock of her eyes upon his. She doesn't read into the gaze he holds only for her—and maybe if she had she would have realized it was _far deeper than that_. She never catches on when he dares her a glance within those days that follow. She never realizes he's looked her way more than she could ever fathom.

She's held a new _dream_ in his time away. She longs for a clinic where children could go to deal with their trauma. Her Team Seven had taught her the trauma that children face and it's with an open heart, and smile on her face that she presses forward down this road some more. There's only the wonder of what it is he sees when he looks towards his dreams. He had held ambition— _far too much_ —and she's sure whatever it is he sees he will obtain because this is a man of action—he's never outspoken.

It's those fingers that bring her from her rest. She doesn't read within his retrieval of her from desk—maybe if she had she would have realized it was _far deeper than that_. It's a walk within her home that continues then on. He won't allow her to lock herself away from their side in the hopes of this new dream. She can only continue to wonder what he sees within his own dream.

The bloom of pinks, and whites look so pretty but they always bloomed to soon. The greens of summer and the heat it comes crashing within bring his leave. She's there to see him off and it's a press of those fingers that keep her in place. She's done this dance for so long. It's one foot in front of the other, and the knowing that he'll be back. There's wonder if this dream he holds is but the transformation of one long since gone—a police officer in a whole new sense. The smile upon her face is soft within its curve at such a thought.

The golds and reds are quick to fall and with it the winter chill comes but harder this year. There's no doubt that longing has overtaken her. She holds no desire to stop him from his continued forward steps. It's not until much later passed the blooming of spring and deep within the throes of summer that he comes back. There's a peace of mind when she finds him this time. She's late to greet him, but not too late to welcome him back. He's doesn't stay for long. It's a couple days at most, and yet he resumes his retrieval of her. He's come and gone from her side. As long as they are together—as long as Team Seven resides—she would never ask for more.

There's the coming fall, and the winter that falls far less this year than the one before, and it's here that she's gained yet another dream conquered. The clinic is a success and it's the thrill and the burst of her heart within her chest that keep her locked within her place. He comes to find her not long after—it's deep within the pinks, and whites that vanquish the winter. Fingers tickle her skin as they clip the necklace upon her neck. She doesn't read into this gift of his— maybe if she had she would have realized it was _far deeper than that._ It's the capture of her eyes seized by his might. The smile upon his lips when she touches the pendant of bright white, and deep rich red is one that make her believe he truly has found a new dream. She wonders what it is even still—but she would never ask for more.

The pinks, and whites that slaughtered the white are thrown aside in the hopes of greens, and bright lights. It's a press of those fingers upon her forehead that so long ago had been but a start. He's leaving again hoping to bring relief to those who may still be in need. He's always been a man of action-he's never outspoken. It's clear within his actions they've managed a friendship.

There's no concept of when the green had failed to remain within their realm. She's sitting upon a throne far different in color. The sovereignty she's claimed is one she doesn't understand. It's not until he's returned within the land filled to the brim of white that she has a clue that this is where she sat.

She's sat there much longer than she could have ever realized. He's come and gone as he pleased—and it's now that he's returned. The months that come are longer than the days she barely remembers. They've always held shared looks. They've always gazed without question. They continue those shared looks. They continued to gaze without question.

 _The definition of what they are eludes her with these new revaluations_.

It's the flutter of eyes and the turn of her head—he's gone again. There's the quickness of her step and the slide of the doors within this quickened manner. The rose-colored locks that dance upon her peeking shoulders are like the pinks and whites that blossom around her. He's there within the gold setting sun that shines as if to illuminate him. Decorated within smiles so tender, and longing—there's the memories that floated within her sleep before she had awoken. She had never questioned any action he had taken—maybe if she had she would have realized much sooner it was _far deeper than that_.

There's no denying where she sits within his realm. The pedestal is high, and holds an importance far different those who came before her. This throne she sits upon is not the same as the one he has made for the best friend of blonde. This seat of sovereignty she sits upon is not the same as the one the surrogate father of lead colored hair resided within. The cathedra she sits upon holds a different intention, and a different meaning. It is an unspoken title but one that adorns and caresses.

It's his shirt she's taken far too large that hang off her shoulders. The fan of bright white, and deep rich red are but the sole reminder. There's a bitter sweet moment at knowing. He's not leaving her yet because this is but the start. There's the turn he makes to take her, who stands at the door. He's soft and gentle in this gaze that holds her. He'll be leaving her again.

She does not wish to lock him to her, and yet he's moved forward closer to her. It's always been one foot in front of the other and that inability to think far deeper. The spring may have blossom but it's outdone by her smile in this golden glow of time.

This won't stop his leaving and yet there's nothing clearer than this dream she could only originally ponder. She's walked this path far longer than any she knew. She's traveled the terrain and walked through the sands. He would travel until his demons could no longer drag her under. He still travels but there's no other intention—she now is the dream that he walks towards within this new found purpose.

There's no doubt within her mind that he'll return. If she truly was this dream of his, then he would return—he's always had ambition—far too much. It's that whisper in the wind and the clarity of her mind. This shirt of his is crown that adorns her. This pendant is but a promise.

The little things he's done have all but been clear. If only she had taken the time to think of them far deeper. He's turning from her and she knows this is goodbye. The dream of memories are all she needs to hold her in place, and keep the overcast glass of her eyes at bay. She had held so many dreams, and it's now there is wonder if this dream she holds is but the transformation of one long since gone—she had longed for him beside her. That's a dream she can now look upon further.

Fingers that press against her forehead had been but the start—the intention had been _far deeper than that_.


	2. Patience is a Virtue

x.x.x.x

Title: Patience is a Virtue  
Prompt: I've learned that waiting is the most difficult bit, and I want to get used to the feeling, knowing that you're with me, even when you're not by my side.  
Idea: Based on Artwork by freshtoxinn

* * *

 _Patience is a virtue they had said_. She had grown up with the claim that if one was patient it would pay off. She had always been patient, and she had always been waiting. She continued to travel this earth without question that she would some day receive as she had given. Never had she ever found a way to truly silence that voice within her head. It consistently echoed within the rooms. It echoed in the halls. It echoed within the air.

As a child she had suffered through the trails of waiting. She picked up that patience then and there. She was patient when she waited for their next mission. She was calm and willing when it came to their training. She had been understanding when it was not her turn. She had continued to wait. After all, patience was a virtue they had said.

She's stubborn in nature, but smart within her head. She finally had grasped that which they had said. It was like a training and with it she had learned how to bare it. There were ways to uphold it. There were ways to move forward. There was a time to act, and a time to prepare. She was vastly behind those boys that walked before her. Wrapped within bandages the obnoxious blonde had been—and that had been all it took to make her decide she had been patient long enough.

 _I'm sorry Naruto. I have to make you wait a while but. . .next time we'll do it together_.

She had put her all into all that she learned. She would no longer stand behind, and she would no longer dream of standing beside. She would make them watch her back from the sidelines—she would teach them the patience she had endured. She would teach them the strength it took to wait.

Three years she had stored her chakra in the seal. Three years she had made them way. They were always moving forward and leaving her behind, and now she would stand firm with no reason to hide. She would unlock the byakugou seal, and she would do it right. She has surpassed the original predecessor and she could now bring the fight. The earth would cry at her power, and they would look to see how far she had come. She had endured, and she had waited. Just as she had told him they would do this together. _After all, patience is a virtue, they had said_.

 _And. . .I don't have to worry about keeping my youthful looks_.

Mastery of patience, and a victory of waiting was something she had acquired long before now. She's stubborn in nature, and it's the call of his voice within her head that has her leaving behind him. Seeking him out had been hard, and throwing her patience into the wind had been liberating. She traveled and she walked, and they had gone so far from where they stood in their genin days. He would teach her a new kind of patience, and he would teach her a new kind of wait. Nine months to be exact, and there's unbridled joy at that. They're expecting deep within their time together. He's found a love for her, and she had continued to love so patiently.

He's determined and he's unrelenting in watching her every move. It's with this gift of patience she's acquired through her youth that she can be understanding and not get frustrated. He wants no harm to her, nor their child. There's the inhale that keeps her reined in, and the press of his fingers upon her back. Patience was righteous to this who waited. Love was patient, and love was kind—and this child would be proof of that.

Labor is taxing, and there's little she can do to keep her love patient. She needs to see this child and she needs to hold her close. She's been patient her whole life, and it's now that she's asking to receive this in return. Eight hours of labor, and two hours of her pushing. He's holding her hand and brushing those ridiculously long strands from her face. Training could never come to the difficulty of child birthing, and it's finally with the cries that echo around them that she can thank the gods for letting her finally meet her. The fear of a first time mother is there, but it's pushed aside for the mantra that she clings to in her head. Nine months had been so long, and now that it's over it had become so short. She's giving way to a smile full of exhaustion and the muffled sound of humor. _After all, patience is a virtue, they had said_.

 _She's finally here. . .she's finally ready to meet us_.

They've been home for just a year or two. First time parents and full of fears. He's patient within his loving, and she's showing him the way. She's the master of patience, and victory in waiting. The gentle looks he gives to their daughter are what fill her heart, and shake her being. She's showing him this patient path, and he's struggling at first. He's always been one to move fast, and never been one to wait it out. They're disrupted within this silent lesson she unknowingly gives to him. He's leaving her side with all of their safety in mind. He's brought her close pressing her back to him giving her a taste of what she will miss. He's warm and he holds her so tender—undeniably tender. The breeze that follows through is welcomed leaning her head against his shoulder. The curl of her fingers upon his hand is one she'll remember. He'll be away from a while, and she only hopes she can continue to keep those words from her youth beside her in his absence. _After all, patience is a virtue, they had said_.

It's cruel when she thinks upon it now. When had she not waited, and when had she not been patient. With every action and step she took she had endured, and continued forward. It's as though someone thinks she has not truly learned the extent of what waiting brings. There's a shake of her heart and the whisper she gives.

 _I've learned that waiting is the most difficult bit, and I want to get used to the feeling, knowing that you're with me, even when you're not by my side._

The squeeze of his arms wrapped around her shoulders press her deeper against him with her words. He knows she'll manage, and he knows she'll continue to endure. She'll raise their child while he seeks to keep her safe. He's doing it for everyone, and he's doing it for their child. He's doing it for her, and that's what brings forth her broken smile. Patience brought pain, and waiting was hard, but that won't stop her from embracing it all the same.

She's travel so far, and she's gained this skill well before now. There's humor in wonder if it had all been to prepare for this. He leaves not soon after, and that earthly scent is what surrounds her. It's difficult at first, but this child she had waited for keeps her moving. Fingers that hold, care, and love come to pick this child up from her wails. She's determined she'll teach this proof of their love the patience she's endured.

It's in the months that pass that she always comes back to the memory of him wrapping her up within his arms. Waiting was difficult, and waiting brought longing. She's just barely begun to grasp the feeling of him beside her even when he's out of her grasp. There is desire to stay grounded, and hope of his return to come quickly. The grin she gives way to is wide upon her face knowing it was never that simple. She'll transcend her mastery of patience, and she'll keep close the victories she's had against waiting. _After all, patience is a virtue, they had said_.

The months she had managed, and the years that follow it are just as difficult as when she was little. Waiting has become perfected, and it's with it she continues to silently teach all that she knows. The waiting is still difficult, but she's conquered it before and this time will be nothing less. It's those first steps, and those first long sentences that he's missing. It's that curiosity that this child overflows with, and that desire to understand. Her child has taken her husband's traits far more than hers and that is what makes waiting worth it even more. This darling daughter is their joining, and the proof of their love.

That curiosity is forever brimming and it's thanks to it that this daughter of obsidian dares to ask if her husband and her have kissed. There's a sacredness to their affection since he's all about his actions. The press of a finger to her chin and the drag of her eyes to the corner bring the flood of memories that showcase his intentions are what make her think not of those arms wrapped around her before his departure but the touch of his fingers upon her forehead. The butterflies that swim within her stomach are welcomed and the dust of her cheeks follow. Her child thinks she's being dirty, but the action that's brought this blush on is far purer in nature. _After all, patience is a virtue, they had said_.

A brush of her fingers tapping upon her own child's head comes with this patience she's maintained, and a smile spread across her features follows the same.

 _I'll tell you next time. . .you'll understand when you meet your papa_.

Long after she's sent her darling daughter to bed, and deep within those nights. There's not denying the ghost of his arms the wrap around her tight. He's pressing her against him, and the smile she gives is patient. Fingers seek too curl upon those that lingered even when he wasn't here. There's the deepest of inhales and somehow their bedroom has maintained his earthly scent. There's peace within this patience, and love within this waiting. She wonders if she'll ever get used to this feeling of him beside her when he's not there. The laugh she lets out, hidden from all who could see her, is one that displays how broken endurance has made her. He's there within the halls, and deep within a room. Their daughter is but one of their many connections, and the flower that's bloomed thanks to her waiting. Patience brought pain, and waiting was hard, but that won't stop her from embracing it all the same.

She's stubborn in nature, and she's smart within her head. She's walked these lands, and endured more than one would normally understand. He's protecting everyone, and he's protecting the piece of him that he had dared to share. He's ambitious in nature, and he's pure within his being. He walks those lands, and enduring the same and learning lessons she had taught him all the same. There's a satisfaction in knowing that her patiently waiting continued to pay off, and her efforts were not in vain. He'd be beside her once more, and she longs for that day.

Patience was painful, and waiting was difficult. Patience was righteous, and waiting was trained.

 _Patience is a virtue_ —and she'll continue to maintain it.  
They've never been wrong in what _they had said_.


	3. Burned—But It's Alright

x.x.x.x

Title: Burned—But It's Alright  
Prompt: _Don't tell me what to do unless you're naked._  
Idea: Based on Artwork by freshtoxinn  
Note: #sideeyeing I need to learn how to write smut, my dudes, cause man am I no good at this shit. Oh well you live and learn #shrugs Besides lol that half baked sidelined plot—PWP?

* * *

It was too late to change direction. She had long since fixated his mind. Her tongue had been sharp today in telling him what to do— _she's not necessarily aggressive in what she's asked_ —she had been fed up with Naruto and his arguments. Never though would he have considered she would take the blonde's side over his. Even within there time away, and even after the time they had traveled beside one another he would have never considered the idea that she would take Naruto's argument.

Months of travel had given him the chance to see all the things he had missed within their teens. She's changed— _she's changed a lot_ —and yet she hasn't changed at all. There's that girl he had long since spent his time with as a genin before defecting residing in every action and movement, or so he had thought until the moment she did not agree with him in the bicker match he had fallen into with his best friend.

Her steps are always soft even as she walks beside him. Rose-colored strands, and sea glass colored eyes. Those locks of pale rose have grown out since they had traveled, and only sought to become even longer within their short return. Those eyes he swears change within the light. They fall into good pace with each other. She is quick on her feet— _but never quicker than him_. Her fist make the earth cry, and those fingers vanquished any injury. She holds her good days, and then there are days when she is rougher around the edges.

The glower that decorates his face is normal within its place as they head for his home for the night. She's quiet as her eyes look at all but him—it's causing him _vexation_ how much she had fixated his mind. They are set to leave in the following day to resume their travels. He still has much more he wishes to see in this world, and he holds no issues in her continued steps beside his. The annoyance that lingers within him at her defending the blonde still resides though— _irritation, vexation, indignation_.

 _He knows he'll get burned but it's alright_. _  
He'll trade his sense for sensation this time_.

The lack of her chatter is grinding the air that continues to become intense. He can only wonder as he leads her through his rebuilt home within the Uchiha district if she can feel it as much as he can. It's the placement of her bag upon the table that brings the clash of obsidian and amaranthine to those sea glass green. Obsidian and amaranthine catch the tightening of her jaw and the swallow that slides down her throat. Pale pink pinch together making it all too clear she too can feel how thick the tension between them has become.

There's no stopping his steps though as he walks passed her—if he doesn't leave her side, and retreat to his bed he is likely to say something— _do something_ —that won't end well. There's no missing the sharp intake of air she takes with his retreat. There's no doubt that little girl from his genin days lingers in these walls. She's looking at him in his retreat, and he knows this without even having to look back at her.

Fingers small and gloved curled within his cloak of ebony.  
Obsidian and amaranthine don't dare to glance at her tugs.  
Voice soft and shaky slices through the silence.

"Don't run away." her voice is tight as it enters the air between them.

The silence he answers with he hopes will be enough to make her retract the hand that holds his cloak—it's not enough though, "Are you really that upset I agreed with Naruto in your dumb bickering?"

That's what makes his throat tighten— _irritation, vexation, indignation—_ it's as if she's wanting to pick a fight. Where did this girl—no she was no longer that small genin he had left when he defected—this woman get off telling him what to do? The grind of his teeth comes with this new found command, and question.

"Sasuke-kun, don't—"

 _He can't control this compulsion_.  
 _He's like a moth into the flame_.

She's right—the argument he and the blonde had shared was dumb— _stupid, idiotic, vacuous_ —

There's the push and clatter of his kitchen chairs, and the press of her against the kitchen table. He's the one being antagonistic, and allowing his vexation of her need to tell him what to do to show itself as he grabs her chin and takes her mouth to his. Those fingers once curled within his cloak to stop him from leaving her side now curl upon his shoulder as he forces her to sit upon the table. He doesn't want to hear another word from her— _she's not to tell him what to do unless she's naked_. The noise of a gasp mixed with a groan escape her mouth allowing his tongue to make its way into her own.

She's what's fixated within his mind, and it's those demands of hers that have landed her where they are now now— _he will take the shame of placing it all upon her_. He's lost his control, and his senses as his fingers slide across the red cheongsam that is keeping her skin laced in poison from his touch. He's determined her words from this afternoon were laced in lies. The little girl that backed him in their genin days is there—even as a woman she would never go against him even if he was wrong. The affliction awaits within her sea glass eyes.

 _Her fiery embrace completes his shame_.

The muffles noise she makes as he presses his fingers against her chest force her back to table. There's no stopping the glow of red that comes over his lone obsidian. Fingers slide within aggression to yank and tug the black shorts that keep him from what he wants— _he can't wait to feel her around him_. He wants her bare, and milky. There's a hiss at the mewl that leaves her at his forcefulness. There's heat soaking him down to the bone that makes him all the more urgent to remove the black binding, and yank the zipper of her cheongsam to free her of it. He's a moth into the flame. This flame of theirs is coalescing, and it's burning bright. He'll get burned— _but that's all right_.

She's just as equally hostile within the removal of her gloves, and with her attempt to raise and the panting she's fallen into she gives out the most frustrated of groans as he presses her firmly against the table to keep her where he has her.

 _He can't wait_.

Deep rich red, and amaranthine cannot stop themselves from running over her form. She's milky, and she's soft—her skin as been set ablaze. It's with each movement of his eyes that he's yanking his own clothing off—the pull of his cloak to shatter to the floor, the pull of his shirt over his head sending his obsidian into disarray, and the forceful tug he uses to make his pants pool around his legs. His arm is quick to push her bag from the table top as he presses himself against her sending another heightened moan from her. The glow of deep rich red, and amaranthine refuse to leave her sea glass green as he slides his fingers within his mouth sending her breathing erratic.

"Sasuke-kun!" her voice cracks with his rough handling of his fingers sliding within her underwear and inside her.

He can only let his own air come out gruff and hot as a reply at the feel of her as he continues to slide his fingers deeper inside her curling them in hopes she'll say his name again. There's something far too erotic about this woman as she spreads her legs wider and wraps her fingers upon the edge of the table above her head. She's pushing herself to meet his fingers pumps within her and the cries she gives only seek to make him go faster—harder. He'll take that look of half-lidded sea glass green willingly— _hungrily, vigorously, longingly._

Every push of his fingers only make her whimper more. Every whimper she makes only make him pump deeper and stretch her underwear more. Every stretch of her underwear lets him see how much wetter he's making her.

She had taken his best friend's side within their argument— _and yet she was here_ —panting and begging with his fingers deep inside her. The curl of his fingers deep inside her make her back leave the table as she soaks his fingers within her release, and plea that leaves her mouth.

He's far from done with her though—he's just as hot as she feels, and he's far to lost within the desire to burn himself with her wrapped around him. It's far too tantalizing. It's torturing him to not just removing his fingers as she grinds his fingers deeper to ride out her release. He wants to feel her too much. She literally burns within the slick dew that's overcome that milky skin of hers.

Glowing deep rich red, and amaranthine can only watch the rise and fall of her chest as she clutches her hands against it within her desperate attempts for air. The pale rose-colored strands are sticking to her, and the startle and mewl that leaves her as he removes his fingers is almost enough to shatter his control even further—he barely had any to lose.

If she had wanted to tell him what to do now was the moment she could—he didn't want her ordering him around unless she was like this—not unless she was naked and heated for him. He's none too gentle when he pulls her up from the table and moves to replace their position. He wants her to ride him— _dominate, control, command_.

 _Her skin was laced in poison.  
Her words were laced with lies.  
Affliction was waiting in her eyes._

He couldn't control this compulsion—he's a moth long since submerged within this flame. She's quick in grasping what he's wanting as she crawls upon the table to his seated form settling herself above him. Sliding his dry member yet to touch her already wet and awaiting entrance against her only makes her let out a choked moan. Pain unfolding—and _shame beholding_ —he needs her to not let go of him.

The feel of her hot, and so saturated over comes him making him choke upon the air he's suddenly desperate for. Fingers curl upon her back and within those pale rose-colored strands that dare to stick themselves upon her slick skin. Her breathing has found it's erratic pace once more with each roll of her hips.

"Deeper— _harder_ —Sasuke-kun." she pants within his ear.

 _He had long since traded his sense for this sensation.  
He wants her to take him, break him—right now.  
_Why should he wait till he's in hell to pay?

Her pace increases with each muffled noise that leaves his mouth. He cannot handle her—this was but one of the many reasons she seemed to be demanding him— _he needs this sensation to stay_. Her fiery embrace only severs to remind him of his shame once more—shame for allowing himself to feel so much at her just taking the blonde's side.

There would be no disappointing her and no stopping him following her commands at pushing himself deeper and bringing himself to roll his own hips against her. The curl of her back that he clings to without remorse, and the throw of her head at how much friction comes at one particular deep roll. It's all he has to provide to get her to begin pushing herself up and down upon him in antagonistic urgency. The curl of her fingers upon his shoulders press deeper into his shoulder as her voice becomes echoes within the walls of his kitchen.

 _He'll get burned—but it's alright.  
He's fixated on her—she's his sensation.  
Right now—so what?_  
He just can't wait.

" _Make me cum_ —Pl—" she's choked upon her words as he presses his fingers along her back down to her bottom gripping it with if possible more force.

"Don't let go of _me_." he's gritting through his teeth in an effort to keep himself from losing himself within the wet warmth he continues to pump into.

It's too late for him to change direction— _too late for him to rein himself back in_. It's his call that has her leaning into him to give him even more access to her. That tongue of hers slides along his neck licking up the sweat that's coated him with their fiery actions. Her words carry just as much heat as she moans within his ear— _she's saying the dirtiest of things_ —she's making such lewd comments about him being _so deep_ within her.

It's enough to make him done with her playing the lead—enough of her being the dominate one. There's no care between her or him as he rolls her onto the table only slowing down to make her let out a frustrated plea, and resume his desperate need to fill her more— _take her harder_ — _take her deeper_.

 _He'll take her, break her—right now._

She's choking upon her air as he pounds her into the table— _his table_ , "Fuck—" he's hissing as she clenches around him with fingers desperate to find the edge of the table.

It's more than enough as she rides it out in such exhausted attempts to make him run his fingers within her hair spilled around them in messy tangles. He's only got so much more he can take—, " _Fill me_ —" she cannot even finish her breathy demand before he's clutching the tables edge and slamming into her relentlessly as his own peak is hit.

Deep rich red, and amaranthine refuse to succumb to their desire to close as he spills within her. He has to watch those sea glass green, and mouth shudder at the feel of him riding out his own. The shake of her legs follows within his slowing thrusts and groans muffled with the bite of his lip. As the rock of his hips settle he can only continue this clash of eyes between them. Their pants, and attempts to ease the need for oxygen are the only things that fill the air—the tension is no longer weighing within the air.

He doesn't want to leave her so hot and warm—but he does as he's done enough within his frustration. There's the clearing of his throat and then him pulling from her. The quake of her legs continues in spasms and the cry she lets out at the feeling of him no longer inside her comes just as quickly. Running his fingers within his obsidian he sits upon the edge before placing his feet upon the floor.

"Don't fall asleep on the table." he holds the slightest tease as he begins lifting her from the table to the edge where he stands.

"Yes, Sasuke-kun." her voice is laced within her exhaustion.

This was the girl from his genin days—now a woman—who followed as he said. This was the one who wouldn't take his best friend's side. The curl of her arms around his neck comes with weak force allowing him to lift her from the table and make his way towards the bedroom—he too feels the exhaustion that comes with such release.

 _He'll submit to her embrace_.


	4. Far Away

x.x.x.x  
Title: Far Away  
Prompt: There really wasn't one. She told me she liked this piece of hers in particular and I winged it. Fight me.  
Idea: Based on FreshToxinn's current Tumblr Background  
Note: I'm late. I'm sorry. I'm in the midst of moving. Family stuff happened and we had to save my brother from being stranded in Oklahoma and just it all happened the week of your birthday you sweet sweet cinnamon roll child of absolute talent and brilliance. It doesn't make it okay, but honestly I really am sorry I'm as late as I am. I hope your birthday was the best, and that you were able to enjoy it and brighten the room just like you do our fandom. You said this piece was your favorite, and I'm not gonna lie babes. I am in no way good enough to write the absolute complexity of that image and the absolute feelings that come from it. I do intend to redo this one once I get better and can give it the one shot it deserves, but hopefully this is okay for now and it's something you'll enjoy. I ended up completely starting over today, but I'll still post the other one I had started for you since I teased you with it.  
Again though dude. Seriously. Happy Belated Birthday, gorgeous. Keep doing you and keep being an absolute gem in the community.

* * *

Far away.  
It's where she'll be.

It's where he knows he'll be free. A mission, and a choice—it was his and she had agreed. He walks the roads that come and he travels from one dimension to the next. The threat always one step a head. Drenched in sweat one moment, and cold down past the skin and into the bone the next. He's here to stay until the day he completes this mission.

Hopeless—yet, filled with relief.  
He won't come out and ask.

Thankfully the one asked to guard continues to spill the smallest of details of her—of _them_.  
Relief—yet, filled with hopelessness.

The sun refuses to shine in this dimension, and in the next it's far brighter than it should be allowed. Just when he thinks he'll be able to get closer and be upon this threat greater than Kaguya herself he's a second too late, and another far behind. Another moment lost, and another day far away.

He won't be free until he catches up. He won't be released from this mission until he's done his job. Far away from where his soul seems to sleep. Nestled from one cave to the next. Some nights spent gazing up above. The drop of the lids comes and it's deep in that world of black.

Far away— _where he'll never be_.  
 _Hopeless_. Relief.

The world looked upon with eyes seeking redemption cannot find it's way into this world entirely made up by him. He's always at the edge of this world with no direction seemingly clear—no light there to tell him where to go. Fingers shaky and palms sweaty. She's far away but it doesn't mean she's not the one that plays in his mind. She drifts in daylight, and yet he can't find away out of this night.

There's still not together even in here—hopeless.  
Relief—that she'll still be there with a smile, and their child.

He cannot overcome this longing turning into bitter realization. Even as he sleeps she'll always be too far away. It doesn't matter how he searches for the flower that will bring him to her. It won't sprout from the earth of his dreams, and find strength within the night. Miles, and miles away is where it's kept it doesn't matter how far he travels here—she'll still be out of reach.

There's no doubt she's thinking of him even if she can't reach him. She's sending all of her hope where he has lost his own. It's the mission that keeps him away and yet she'll continue to send her hope, and that love that attracts them as one. This sky they view is so different. The moons are not the same and that sun is far from what spills upon her in that dimension back home.

 _He's caused this_.  
 _He's far away_ —and it's by his own thoughts.

His own _fears_.  
His own _dreams_.

Falling down into the bitterness only has made him farther from her. These sins are what he needs release from. A single glimpse of her and a single look at them. That child is growing and he's missing all of it. He's restricted this woman, and he's restricted this child. It would crumble his resolution and his firm place already so deep inside this mission.

One more lock, and key to keep him from turning back—to remain the shadow he is meant to play. That constant reminder he does this for _her_. He does this for _them_. He does it for _all_ of them.

Yet, he does it _mostly_ for them.  
 _Far away_ —hopeless with the smallest of relief.

He's losing it all the more he locks up his heart. He's unable to restrain it the further he travels whether it be here in the dreams, or out on the plains of consciousnesses. That flower meant to bring him back to her—he can only as for it to release him. All the pain and all the hate are building up the longer this threat drags him deeper away from her. Slowly those months, and days had fade away—he wishes he could reset it all. He tells himself it'll be okay but he's always been honest. He's been honest with himself, and he's never not been honest with her.

Here in this world of dark is where he's meant to stay. Hopeless, and without relief. Lingering and accepting that there's more days to separate them still. They're still not together, and it'll be a long time before he's found his way back to her. He won't be free until then.

Acceptance.  
Understanding.

Far away—it's where his soul sleeps deep inside this world meant to give him ease.

Fingers pulling tight, and fists heavy. That tightening in his chest, and that drop of his stomach just another moment more. The dryness of his mouth and that longing thick upon his brow. He just wants released—he wants to come back home, and he wants to feel her arms wrap around him—to feel that relief he can no longer seem to keep.

One more step, and the tightening of his jaw. There's no difference from where he's come from and where he heads for. It's as if it plans to keep him eternally locked away and never to find the way out. This is no nightmare, but it's not a dream meant to provide him comfort. It's enough to make him take another step, and then an increase in pace. It's enough to make his heart beat in his ears, and then send this anxiety all throughout.

Running, and heading into the never ending black—deeper and deeper still. He can't find that flower—he cannot even begin to picture it. This longing has turned him against himself. It's made him wish, and it's made him ache. It's made him colder and it's put up another wall around his heart. Trying his best isn't always enough yet he's still desperate enough to find the flower meant to bring him to her.

It won't grow here. It cannot find light in the night to feed from.  
Yet, he's trying and he's looking and his lungs are burning.

Heels are digging and it's that look back to see the distance he's covered—it's as if he's walking in one place never to move forward, and never to move back.

Hopeless.  
Far away—no where close to where she'll be.

That grind of teeth and that physical shake within his being. He had atoned for his sins, and yet they were creeping upon his being and dragging him back down. He just wants to be lead back to her. He wants that sky to provide him comfort, and that scent is bring him ease—relief.

Fingers dare to raise and it's that press against his chest. That continued tightening deep inside his heart seeks to brings him pain.

Blood splattered.  
That scent.  
Those fingers.  
The death.  
It's that flower that he seeks.

It's burst from his chest and out from his heart. She's planted this seed long ago—that's why he could never find it. She's dug the seed deep filled with all of her hope, and all of her love. It's meant to kill his bitterness and silence his longing. It's there to remind him and it's there to shine brightly through this dark. Those petals overwhelm the iron that stains him, and it's those fingers holding him close that he takes. He's reached her at least here, and she's found him even as he traveled deeper.

She's where his soul sleeps.  
It's here they'll be together—no matter how far away.

She drifts in the light.  
Hopeful and filled with relief.

It's all that love, and all that she is that's tore through his heart, and out from his skin. It cannot be contain and it can't be kept at bay all these miles, and miles away. Another inhale and another moment to just feel the way her fingers press against his skin. That tightening of his hand around her own coated in the blood she's made pour with all of her love.

This death is entirely sweet, and it's what lights the never ending dark. It paints the walls within the palest hues glowing—only for his lids to flutter open.

That earthly smell isn't the one that bursts from his chest. It's the grass padding him. He's far away once more and she's where he cannot be. She's far away where his soul sleeps once more. The dryness of his mouth and that lingering desire to see if her love had truly blossomed forth from deep inside him comes. Fingers run across the grass before running across the cloth of his vest. There's no petals that dared to smell sweet and fill his nose. There's no blood splattered across this fully clothed chest. There's to fingers ghosting across his shoulder and wrapping around his waist. There's no whole where her flowers should be.

A single deep inhale, and that slow drag of his lids closed. He's not there and she's not here. He's here to stay and now without the sin of bitterness washing out like waves. He's got a mission to complete, and her to return to. He's here to put an end to this threat that would dare to threaten not only her, but that child that keeps them connected still.

Tired but still moving he's heading out once more. He has another dimension to hit, and another chance to put an end to this threat. It may linger in the shadows and he may always be a moment behind, but it has to end at some point and then he'll be free.

Far away—it's where she'll be.  
Hopeful, and filled with relief.  
Endlessly.


End file.
